I stayed on my feet when I heard there was a shooting at my daughter's school. I stayed on my feet through the repeated unanswered phone calls. I stayed on my feet when I found out she was in the classroom where the shooting took place. I stayed on my feet when she wasn't among the wounded on the list at the hospital. I stayed on my feet when I identified my daughter's body. I stayed on my feet while we planned her funeral. Then, I found out that Westboro Baptist Church applied for a permit to picket at the funeral of a murdered teenaged girl, what we hoped would be my beloved daughter's appropriately dignified and loving farewell. For the first time during the whole horrific ordeal, my knees gave out and I was on the floor, keening.
I hope that NOBODY will picket this man's funeral. I don't want anyone to show up with signs bearing either messages of hate or messages of forgiveness. What would be most appropriate is if no one noticed his passing. I wouldn't give his followers the satisfaction of knowing that he mattered at all.
